The Black Phantom
by MagicSwede1965
Summary: Two families compete for the apparent descendant of a legendary horse. Follows 'The Demon's Revenge'.
1. Chapter 1

I'm baaaaa-aaacckkk: ) I had some writing projects to catch up on and have finally done so, so here's the latest in the _Fantasy Island_ saga according to me. Enjoy! (Hi, Harry2!)

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§ § § -- April 5, 1991

"It just infuriates me, Leslie," announced Maureen Tomai heatedly, pacing the floor in the study of the main house while Leslie tried to split her attention equally between her and the task Roarke had given her. "That woman thinks she's something special just because she runs the hotel. I mean, Camille's husband has almost as much authority as she does, but she doesn't give him any responsibility and takes credit for everything. She acts like _she's_ the one who owns Fantasy Island, not Mr. Roarke!"

Leslie glanced up at this and smiled distractedly. "Oh, come on, she can't be all that bad," she said, without really thinking about what she was saying.

"Yes she can, and she is," retorted Maureen instantly. "Good Lord, Leslie, you should have seen the way she treated my mother." She stopped suddenly in the midst of her pacing and peered suspiciously at Leslie. "Hey, are you even listening to me?"

"Of course," Leslie mumbled, without looking up.

"Oh no you aren't," Maureen said and approached Roarke's desk, where Leslie sat eyeing some papers in front of her. "What're you doing?"

Leslie heaved a great sigh and looked up, focusing her full attention on Maureen at last. "Trying to make some sense out of these papers," she admitted. "I've never seen so much legalese in all my life. They pertain to one of the fantasies for this weekend."

"Oh," Maureen murmured with heightened interest, leaning over to try to read the pages upside-down. Leslie smiled and neatly scooped the papers off the desk, hiding them from her. Maureen straightened up and affected an overdone pout.

"Hey, I was just curious," she said.

"You know the rules," Leslie said, still smiling. "Same as they've always been: no talking pre-fantasy. Maybe we can get together on Monday and chat the way we used to do at lunch in school. But I can't tell you anything right now."

Maureen shrugged good-naturedly. "That's okay. We don't get together much as a group anymore, and with Frida and Michiko both gone, it feels like something's missing. Do you ever hear from either one of them?"

Leslie shook her head. "I guess Michiko's too busy trying to get her singing career off the ground, and as for Frida, I don't know if she keeps in touch with anyone from the island. I know she had friends in high school besides the six of us, but they weren't people we knew as far as I can remember." She shifted in Roarke's chair and changed the subject. "I don't know what we can do about the hotel manager, but if word gets around, that might help. Jimmy's boss is eventually going to have to answer to Mr. Roarke anyway, so you might take a little comfort from that. And I'm sure someone will talk somewhere down the line."

"You're probably right," Maureen conceded. "It's just that the way she treated my mother was totally uncalled-for. Frankly, I think that woman's even worse for PR than old Jean-Claude. Speaking of whom, is he still there?"

Leslie grinned. "Looking forward to retiring next year when he hits sixty-five, but definitely still there. Still an old grouch, but at least he treats me with respect, ever since I told him off about his driving way back when. And he still makes the best seafood dishes we ever tasted. Mr. Roarke and I sometimes have dinner at the hotel just to give Mariki a break and get a little change of pace. His Alaskan king-crab legs are positively superb. They make you really believe you could live on those."

Maureen laughed. "If I ever scrape together enough money to pay for one of those wondrous meals of his, I just might try them. Well, anyway, thanks for letting me vent, Leslie. I guess I should get home. See you Monday, hopefully."

"I'll call," Leslie promised and watched her friend depart. Once Maureen was gone, that left her with the legal papers, to which she returned with another sigh. They didn't make any more sense to her now than they had when she'd begun.

"How are you doing?" inquired a voice from behind her, and she twisted in the chair to find that Roarke had come in through the open French shutter doors.

"Not very well," she admitted readily and brandished the papers at him. "I still haven't figured out what these papers are for. I can't believe it's necessary to use all these huge, incomprehensible words and phrases just to make a simple statement."

Roarke chuckled. "That, my daughter, is a constant in this world, undoubtedly begun by lawyers merely to show off the fruits of their many years in school."

"Apparently," said Leslie. "And I see from this that Australian lawyers are as windy and wordy as their American counterparts."

Roarke smiled at that and took the papers from her. "As it happens, these are owner-ship forms, as yet unsigned. They are the reason for one of our fantasies this weekend, and once we greet our guests tomorrow morning, you'll know the rest. It's late, so I suggest you retire for the night and get some rest."

"My brain's pretty much fried anyway," Leslie agreed. "Okay then, see you in the morning, Mr. Roarke."

"Good night, Leslie," he replied, and she retreated up the stairs. Roarke regarded the papers for a long moment before taking a key from the gold box on the desk and unlocking the top right drawer, where he filed the papers away in the rearmost folder and then took care to lock the drawer again. There was too much riding on those papers to risk their loss or theft. He cast a cursory glance at the grandfather clock near the foyer steps, then decided he might as well call it a night too.

§ § § --April 6, 1991

By now Leslie was accustomed to her role as assistant to her adoptive father, pushing the button to ring the tower bell and then going to meet Roarke on the other end of the porch. She no longer had the giddy sensation of having achieved some wild and wonderful dream that she'd had when she first started the previous summer; but she truly loved her job, and nothing on earth would ever make her give it up.

"Good morning, Mr. Roarke!" she said cheerfully.

"Good morning, Leslie," he replied warmly and glanced skyward. "Another glorious day, isn't it?"

She grinned. "Is there ever any other kind?" she asked, and they both laughed as the car pulled around and they climbed inside.

Their first fantasy was so run-of-the-mill that Leslie knew it would go without any major hitch: another guest who wanted to be a multi-millionaire. Such fantasies as this and others that included finding the perfect spouse, being royalty for a weekend, being a movie star or rock star, or just being young and/or beautiful were what Roarke had once referred to as the "bread and butter" of his business. These were the bill payers and always the most popular. They were routine enough that Leslie seldom paid much attention to them any-more, always looking for the most interesting fantasies. She no longer selected and scheduled them as she had done during Tattoo's and Lawrence's years on the island; Roarke had appropriated this task after Leslie had married Teppo and left the island with him. So she was now in Tattoo's position of asking curious questions about the weekly fantasies.

She watched now as a gaggle of young adults, all essentially in her age bracket, filed out of the plane one after another, talking earnestly and pointing out one sight or another to each other. "Good heavens, they just keep coming, don't they?" she asked.

Roarke chuckled. "They are actually members of two families," he explained. "The three in front are Linda, Graeme and Melissa Carpenter; the foursome behind them are Angus, Hugh, Dorianne and Colin Markham. The two groups run adjacent horse farms some distance outside Port Augusta, South Australia."

"This wouldn't have anything to do with those blank ownership forms, would it?" Leslie asked.

"Yes, it would. Perhaps you are familiar with the story of the Black Phantom?"

She nodded. "The most famous Australian racehorse on earth, except for Phar Lap. If my memory is working properly, the Black Phantom won every race he ever competed in, around the time of the American Civil War, and then vanished after he'd won his hundred-and-twentieth race. No one ever found out what happened to him, and his disappearance is still a mystery to this day."

"Precisely," Roarke said. "Well, it appears that there is a direct descendant of the Black Phantom here on Fantasy Island; and needless to say, both the Carpenters and the Markhams have shown enormous interest in possessing the horse in question."

"Along with every other horse farm in Australia, I'm sure," Leslie joked.

"Actually, these two families have a special connection to the original Black Phantom. The Carpenter and Markham patriarchs emigrated from England together in the 1850s, and established their farms as separate but cooperative ventures. History tells us that they claimed joint ownership of the Black Phantom and became quite wealthy as a result of his winning record. After the horse disappeared, however, the two families became bitter enemies. Each clan believed the other had stolen the horse and hidden the animal away, and the rivalry has been in force ever since then. The current generation in each family stands firm in their belief that they are rightfully entitled to the alleged descendant of the Phantom. And that is their joint fantasy."

"Of course, someone has to lose," Leslie pointed out.

"Exactly," Roarke said. "And I am afraid the quest may lead to more bad blood between the two families than there already is." Leslie raised her eyebrows, but that was all she had a chance to do, for at that moment Roarke's drink arrived and he raised his glass as always. "My dear guests, I am Mr. Roarke, your host. Welcome to Fantasy Island!"


	2. Chapter 2

§ § § -- April 6, 1991 

Since the group was so large, Roarke and Leslie met the seven Australians in the main room of the Markham bungalow, one of three recently-built ones that had two bedrooms. Everyone settled into seats; Roarke and Leslie noticed that the two families maintained separate and distinct camps, making sure there was a fair amount of distance between one another and eyeing each other distrustfully. No one spoke, so Roarke took it upon himself to break the ice. "Have you all settled in and had a chance to rest?" he inquired.

"As a matter of fact," said Dorianne Markham, "I was planning on taking a swim, but my brothers convinced me this was more important." She shot Hugh, Angus and Colin a dark look; Angus was the only one who defiantly met her glare. Hugh looked a little sheepish and Colin glanced away.

"It _is_ important, little sister," Angus said flatly. "We're all in this together, and that includes you, so get used to it."

Linda Carpenter leaned forward and deliberately addressed Roarke. "To get down to the business at hand, Mr. Roarke…what can you tell us about this alleged descendant of the Black Phantom? How did you find this horse and get it to Fantasy Island?"

Roarke sat back and smiled. "The horse, also named the Black Phantom, has always been on the island. Its owner preferred to remain anonymous. He passed away last month, and in his will he stated that the horse be returned to Australia and its rightful owners."

"That wasn't in the newspaper article we read," said Graeme Carpenter.

"Of course not," said Leslie with a smile. "Otherwise we'd have been overrun with claims from horse farms all over Australia. We simply decided to state that a possible descendant of the legendary Black Phantom had turned up on the island."

"Quite so," Roarke concurred. "Now that you are here, and since each respective family is claiming ownership, I have a question for you. Your ancestors worked together and jointly owned the original Black Phantom; so it appears only logical that the horse should be awarded to both families."

Before he could go on, Angus Markham snarled, "Over my dead body!"

"We could arrange for that," Graeme Carpenter offered sweetly.

"It's always been obvious that the Carpenters stole that horse and hid it away," Dorianne Markham shot back. "Tell me why on earth we'd want to share such a valuable animal with a family full of traitors."

"Speak for yourself," Melissa Carpenter said hotly.

The sniping and insults went on for another couple of minutes; Roarke and Leslie looked at each other doubtfully. Finally, during a lull in the war of words, Roarke spoke again. "Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen," he said, his voice frosting over. "Since it's plain that none of you can come to an agreement, I see it will be necessary to determine which family is to be granted ownership. And, according to the terms of the will of the Phantom's late owner, there is only one way to do so."

"How?" seven Australian voices demanded all at once.

"A contest," Roarke told them. "Nothing strenuous, mind you; rather, it's an exercise in mystery-solving. There is a legend revolving around the original Black Phantom that will reveal how to determine if the horse is truly his descendant. Your task is to find out what that legend is. The first family to discover it will notify either me or my daughter, after which I shall ascertain the lineage of the current Black Phantom."

Everyone stared at him blankly, including Leslie. Roarke met each gaze in turn, leaving Leslie for last and smiling when he got to her. She smiled back; his message was clear enough to her. She was going to be let in on the secret.

Carpenters and Markhams alike began to exchange odd glances, united in their perplexity. The Carpenter sisters leaned to each other and whispered; Angus gave his brother Hugh a sharp jab in the ribs. Hugh blinked at him and blurted loudly, "Ow."

"Shut up," said Angus, clearly ritualistically. He turned to Roarke. "Never heard of this so-called legend, Roarke. You sure it's not just something you made up?"

"Oh, it's real, Mr. Markham," said Roarke with a faint smile. "It's very real indeed."

"How are we supposed to find this legend?" Colin Markham asked.

"By searching for it, of course," Roarke replied. "Your ancestors who founded the original farms knew the legend, but as you can see, they took that knowledge to their graves. There was mention of the legend in the late owner's will as well. I am instructed to inform you that the legend holds the secret of the Black Phantom's unsurpassed ability to win races." He took in the thoroughly bewildered looks on all seven faces for a beat or two; then he made a point of taking out his gold watch and checking it. "That is your first clue, ladies and gentlemen. Now, if you will excuse us, we have other guests to attend to. Leslie?" He rose; she followed suit and accompanied him out.

They left behind seven stunned Australians, who sat in silence for a moment and stared after the door Roarke had closed behind him and Leslie. Then Angus snorted loudly. "Legend, hah! I don't believe a word of it."

"Fine for you," Colin spoke up suddenly. "You can drop out, then, and the rest of us will work towards finding the legend. Hugh, Dori, comin'?" He got up and started toward the door; Hugh and Dorianne looked at each other, shrugged at the same moment and followed him.

Graeme Carpenter shot Angus a smug grin and arose. "Linda, Liss, come on then. We have a lot of work to do." They filed out after the Markhams, leaving Angus glaring after them. His eyes glittered with a sudden rage, and he slowly got to his feet, pacing the floor and thinking furiously.

Shortly after lunchtime, Melissa Carpenter and Dorianne Markham stopped in at the main house, looking a little perturbed. Leslie was alone when they came in, but Roarke had filled her in on everything she needed to know; so she was able to give them the information they wanted when Linda demanded, "How are we to find the next clue? Is this supposed to be some sort of scavenger hunt, or what?"

"Not necessarily," Leslie said. "The first clue is intended to make you think. After all, Mr. Roarke said that the legend holds the secret to the Black Phantom's incredible track record. What advantage did the Black Phantom have that would enable him to so easily beat every competitor he ever faced? That's the question you're trying to answer."

Dorianne scowled. "I don't see what that has to do with any legend."

"You will," Leslie assured her. "Once you've figured it out, you'll be a lot closer to seeing the connection." The phone rang at that moment and she smiled apologetically. "Excuse me. Good luck." She lifted the receiver and greeted the person on the other end, her gaze shifting away from the two women. It was clear that she had said all she was going to say; stymied, they left the house, so busy thinking that they even forgot their longstanding enmity and were soon meandering down the Main House Lane side by side.

"Well," Dorianne mused aloud after awhile, "I always did hear that Mr. Roarke was an enigma anyway. Shouldn't be surprised he'd come up with something so cryptic."

"That's true," Melissa agreed. "But who'd've thought his daughter would be the same way? Ever heard anything about her, Dorianne?"

"Call me Dori. No, actually, I didn't even know he had a daughter. And y'know, she wasn't all that much help." She made a face.

Melissa grinned reluctantly. "She and Mr. Roarke are going to be totally neutral, of course. They have to be."

"True." Dori sighed, then stopped short and studied her. "There must be something about this island. Listen to us, talkin' to each other like real human beings. It makes a nice change from all the fightin'."

"I'll go along with that," Melissa said and laughed. "Well, where do you suppose we're to find this clue Leslie mentioned?"

"There has to be a library on this island somewhere," Dori reasoned. "Let's find a native and ask about it, and then we can go from there."

It didn't take them long to reach the library, and when they walked in the door, they saw immediately that they had been the last in their respective families to come up with this idea. Hugh and Colin Markham, Graeme and Linda Carpenter all looked up and scowled at the pair. Dori and Melissa glanced at each other sheepishly and apologetically, then split up to join their siblings.

"Turnin' traitor, little sister?" Graeme asked ominously as Melissa sat down.

"I had a question for Leslie the same time Dori did, that's all," Melissa retorted. "And I'll tell you something, I'm sick of all the stupid fightin'. It's a shame it seems traitorous to you to want to live in peace, whether you're friends with your neighbors or not." Graeme stared at her as if a second head had sprouted out of one of her shoulders, and she rolled her eyes. "Have you managed to find anything, with that one-track mind of yours?"

"Not yet," Linda spoke up then. "I've already been through three books and all they talk about is the Phantom's disappearance."

Dori, meantime, sat at a table opposite Hugh and Colin, glancing between them. "Where's Angus?" she asked.

"Probably plotting," Colin said gloomily. "I'm telling you, Dori, ever since we got here and had our first chat with Mr. Roarke and Leslie, he's had a fanatical look about him."

Hugh, who had always been developmentally slow, glanced at him and shrugged. "I ain't seen nothin' about Angus," he remarked. "Guess he just didn't want to come with us. What're we lookin' for again?"

Colin and Dori looked at each other with tolerant patience; they were used to Hugh's slow-witted ways. "A legend," Colin said.

"Just look for the Phantom's name in the index of all the books you have there," Dori said. "If you see it, tell me or Colin and we'll look a little more." She pulled a book off the top of a stack in front of Colin. "Let's get to it."

By early afternoon they were still at it and had been visited once already by Roarke, looking in on them. He had noticed the absence of Angus Markham, of course, but hadn't commented on it. He'd simply wished them luck and departed; now, mid-afternoon, Colin sat up and arched his back, trying to work the kinks out of it.

"I feel like goin' to the beach," Hugh said unexpectedly.

"You want to stop?" Colin asked. "We haven't had lunch anyway."

"Wait," Dori hissed all of a sudden, sitting up straight, her finger on the page of a book. "There's an interview in here with the owner of one of the horses the Phantom beat in a race in 1864. He said the Phantom just floated right out in front with hardly any effort and stayed in the lead almost from the beginning. Says here, 'Mr. Harrigan adds, "Seems like that horse has wings, the way he leaves 'em in the dust." ' "

Graeme Carpenter spied a short piece in a large coffee-table book in front of him. "I think this is the first thing I've seen that doesn't talk about the Phantom's vanishing act," he told his sisters in wry surprise. "Listen here. It quotes some guy named Johnson about the way the Phantom beat every other horse he ever raced. Says, 'Many people were heard to remark on the unusual ability of the legendary Black Phantom, but Mr. Johnson perhaps said it best when he observed, "That horse seems like a bird sometimes. He just sort of flies out ahead of the entire pack." ' "

"As if there were wings on him, maybe?" offered Melissa.

Hugh Markham peered at his brother and sister. "Ain't no such thing as a flyin' horse," he said placidly, with perfect logic.

Dori and Colin stared at each other. "But there were flyin' horses in legends," Dori said, eyes widening.

"What sort of horse would have wings, Liss? For cryin' out loud…" Linda began.

Graeme lifted a hand. "Wait a minute, Lin. Roarke mentioned a legend, remember? There might never have been any real horse with wings, but there was a legendary one."

"Pegasus," breathed Melissa, awed.

"Pegasus," Colin said, barely loud enough for Dori to hear.

Absolute silence reigned for about two seconds; then there was a mad scramble as chairs were frantically shoved back and several pairs of feet stampeded out of the library. The librarian watched disapprovingly, then glared at Hugh Markham when he clapped a battered hat on his head and cried belatedly, "Wait up!" before charging out in the others' wake. He didn't quite understand what they meant by _Pegasus_, but he had no intention of being left behind in this game.


	3. Chapter 3

§ § § -- April 6, 1991 

At the main house, Roarke had just shown Leslie the contents of a large manila envelope and was in the process of sliding them back inside it when the foyer door burst open and five excited people clattered inside, nearly tripping over themselves and each other getting down the foyer steps. Their hosts stared at them oddly. "What's all the excitement?" Leslie asked, trying not to grin.

"I think we've found it," cried Melissa Carpenter breathlessly.

At the same time Dori Markham exclaimed, "Looks like we've figured out the clue!"

Roarke and Leslie looked at each other, and Roarke smiled then. "And what have you been able to determine?"

Just then Hugh clomped through the foyer door and stumbled to a stop at the top of the steps. "What's Pegasus mean?" he demanded. Five startled faces turned to stare at him, and Leslie ducked her head to hide the grin that refused to be denied.

"Ah," said Roarke, eyes widening. "I see you have indeed found the correct legend."

"There's one problem," Graeme broke in. "What does Pegasus have to do with the Black Phantom? How's this legend connected with our horse?"

Roarke paused before he spoke, taking in the group as a whole, then said, "I believe one of you is missing."

"Oh, that'd be Angus," Colin said. "I guess one of us should get him."

"I'll send for him," Roarke said and nodded at Leslie, who picked up the phone and dialed a number. "Meantime, perhaps we should gather on the terrace so that there is room for everyone to sit down. Would any of you care for refreshment? I don't believe you have had the midday meal."

Leslie hung up in time to hear the last sentence. "I'll have Mariki bring out a plate of sandwiches," she said. "What are you folks interested in to drink?"

Colin and the women opted for iced tea; Hugh and Graeme asked if there happened to be any Australian beer. Leslie grinned and promised to see what she could do, then headed for the kitchen. Roarke indicated the open shutter doors, and everyone trooped through them and found seats around the terrace. They made conversation, interspersed with admiring compliments about the beauty of Roarke's island, until Leslie returned not quite ten minutes later with Mariki behind her, pulling a serving cart.

Once the beer, tea and sandwiches had been disbursed, Mariki took her leave and Leslie found a seat on a wrought-iron bench. Roarke remained standing, surveying the group; after a moment Angus Markham appeared in the foyer and crossed through the office, standing in the terrace doorway and staring at the scene.

"Did I miss something?" he finally asked.

"Only everything," Dori told him. "Why don't you park your carcass somewhere, Angus, and have a sandwich. We've solved Mr. Roarke's little mystery."

Angus' eyes narrowed with understanding and he swept the Carpenter siblings with a frozen glare before finding a seat and helping himself to a sandwich. Before he bit into it, however, he eyed Roarke. "Am I seein' things, or did the Carpenters figure it out same time as Dori and Colin and Hugh did?"

Roarke smiled. "No, your eyes are not deceiving you, Mr. Markham. While it's true that your siblings and the Carpenters were working separately, they all nevertheless arrived at the same conclusion simultaneously. They have found that the legend of Pegasus is connected with the Black Phantom."

Angus, who was on the verge of closing his teeth over a corner of his sandwich, halted and stared at him. "Makes no sense," he said.

Roarke smiled. "As all of you surely know, Pegasus is the fabulous winged horse of Greek mythology," he said. "Now, in the course of your search for the legend, you undoubtedly came across a number of quotations that stated the Black Phantom seemed to be flying somehow during races." Heads bobbed in confirmation. "Someone took this a step farther and suggested that the Phantom may have descended from Pegasus."

Incredulous stares met this statement; only Leslie had enough presence of mind to prompt her father along in his story. "But how could they have determined that?"

"A very good question, my daughter," Roarke said. He turned to the Australians. "Since both families have discovered the correct legend simultaneously, it will be necessary to break the standoff with another step in the contest, as stated in the late owner's will. According to the legend that directly involves the Black Phantom, the racehorse had a certain physical characteristic that was said to have been inherited, in mutated form, from Pegasus. A little research will make clear what that characteristic is. Once again, the first family to discover the answer to this will be the winner of the contest, and will be given sole and total ownership of the present-day Black Phantom."

"We could have another tie, Mr. Roarke," Hugh Markham spoke up then. "What happens if we do?"

"I believe the chances are small," Roarke said, "but there is that possibility nevertheless. In the event that both families do come upon the correct answer at the same time, the tiebreaker will be held tomorrow, and will be an actual race to find the Phantom himself."

"And if there's a tie then?" pressed Hugh, like a child who couldn't stop asking _why?_ all the time. Graeme and Melissa Carpenter rolled their eyes, and Angus gave his brother a solid clout on the arm.

"Stop yabberin'," he said. "Pay him no mind, Mr. Roarke. I'm sure there'll be no tie next time." He shot Dori and Colin a meaningful glare.

Roarke smiled again. "If there _is_ a third tie, as your brother suggested, the will provides for that as well. The Black Phantom's owner thought his plan through very carefully before outlining the will and its terms, and you may rest assured that all contingencies will be addressed." He cleared his throat and glanced around the group. "If there are no questions, then I suggest you finish your repast here on the terrace at your leisure, and you may then resume your research at any time. However, there is a time limit: you are required to have found the answer by nine this evening. I have an appointment that cannot be missed, but my daughter will be here, and she will report the outcome to me. For now, I must see to some other guests. Leslie?" She arose without a word and accompanied him back into the study while their guests watched them go; no one spoke till they had seen Roarke and Leslie cross the room and depart the house through the foyer door.

"I think that bloke who made up this whole game must've been totally mad," Graeme remarked finally. "I wonder what he was thinkin' when he came up with all this. Roarke says he wanted to be anonymous, but that just makes me wonder who he was."

"I'd thought Mr. Roarke himself created this game, till Hugh asked his question," Dori admitted. "So it was really the former owner of the current Phantom, eh? He must have known a lot about our families in order to come up with this contest of his."

"That bothers me a little," Melissa confessed. "It's like bein' spied on."

"Yeah, that's just what I was thinkin'," Colin agreed, making her study him with surprise. He grinned at her, and she blushed and lowered her head.

"Sittin' here yabberin' like this ain't gonna get us back to the contest any faster," said Angus then, lifting a bottle of beer from the table where Mariki had earlier left a six-pack and popping it open. "Let's finish eatin', and then we need to get movin'. Dori, Colin, Hugh, come on—if you're not done by the time I am, y'lose out."

"Especially now with a time limit," Graeme said, giving his sisters sharp looks. "So hurry it up." He and Angus eyed each other narrowly over their beer bottles; their respective siblings eyed them with startled worry over their newly intensified enmity, then glanced uneasily at one another before everyone began to dig in with gusto.


	4. Chapter 4

§ § § -- April 6, 1991 

"It's back to the library with you," Angus announced at their bungalow. It was now nearly four o'clock, and they had five hours before Roarke's imposed deadline. "I have some things I gotta handle, so the three of you start lookin' around over there."

"What 'things' do you have to handle, exactly?" Dori demanded ominously. "Damn it, Angus, you haven't lifted a single finger to help us this entire time. You just stand around issuin' orders, like you're the king of the world or something. Why don't you haul your sorry carcass to the library with us and give us some help searchin'?"

Angus glared at her. "That's your job. I have my job to do, and you don't need to know what it is."

"Who says we don't?" Colin put in, standing beside his sister and glaring at Angus. "Seems to me you're getting real lazy all of a sudden. You know, Angus, the rule usually goes that if you don't share in the work, you won't share in the reward."

"It was my idea to come to Fantasy Island in the first place," Angus told him, eyes blazing. "And I made all the arrangements too, y'know. Now I've somethin' in mind to make sure we're the ones who leave this island ownin' that horse. I thought you wanted to be owners too. Don't ya?" Colin and Dori looked at each other doubtfully; Hugh simply watched, looking slightly confused. "I got a plan, so just leave it to me and do your research, nice and fair-like, so Roarke don't suspect anythin'."

"Wait a minute," Hugh said suddenly. "That means you're gonna cheat, Angus, and that ain't right. We gotta win the horse fair-like, the way you said."

"He's right," Dori realized. Colin nodded agreement.

"Then y'don't want to own the horse, is that it?" said Angus in a low voice.

"Dammit, Angus, of course we do, but we want to do it right," Colin snapped. "That way, when we win, there's no question about how we did it, and no one can come back and investigate and suggest we cheated. Hugh's right—it sounds like you're plannin' to."

"And we ain't havin' no cheater on our team," Hugh said, getting to his feet and facing Angus full-on. Hugh and Angus were the same height, but it was clear that Hugh had an advantage over his older brother due to an extra twenty pounds or so of muscle. Angus was lanky and wiry, but Hugh had more brute strength. The two glared at each other for a very long moment while Dori and Colin watched tensely; then Angus finally snapped.

"Then I'll do it alone," he growled and stalked out of the bungalow. His younger siblings watched him leave; then Hugh looked at Dori and Colin.

"This way it's more fair-like," he said, again with childlike logic. "Now there's the same number of us as Carpenters, so it's all even."

Colin and Dori stared at him, then looked at each other and started to laugh. "Hugh, sometimes I think you're smarter than everybody else in this family," Dori remarked cheerfully. "Well, come on, we might as well get to the library and start researching."

Graeme, Melissa and Linda spent about an hour sitting at the pool, feet dangling in the water, while they talked in low tones about the contest. Actually, they wasted almost forty-five minutes of that hour arguing over whether Pegasus was a myth, and if he was, how the Black Phantom could possibly be descended from a myth. When Graeme finally checked his watch and realized how long they'd been there, the three of them made a beeline out of the pool area and toward Amberville and the library, without even realizing they'd brushed past Roarke and Leslie, who had arrived there on their routine rounds.

"No rest for the weary," Leslie remarked with a grin, and her adoptive father laughed softly and nodded, guiding her along to check with the bartender on his stock of drink ingredients. Leslie glanced after the fleeing Carpenters once before turning her full attention to the usual necessities of business.

Colin Markham looked up when the threesome entered the library doors, smiled unexpectedly and went back to the book he was going through. Melissa bit her lip; Linda caught the action and eyed her curiously; and Graeme scowled. "Forget that bloke," he told Melissa curtly. "We've work to do. Get over here and sit down."

The library ultimately proved to be a dead end for both clans, who wandered into the deepening twilight worrying over what came next. When Graeme saw Colin and Melissa shooting each other furtive glances, he made an ostentatious point of steering his two sisters away from the Markhams, guiding them back to their bungalow.

"What happened to Angus?" Linda wondered aloud on the way there.

Graeme looked at her and then rolled his eyes. "Maybe a snake or some jungle beast took him out of action," he suggested sarcastically. "If there're crocs on this island, I hope one of 'em ate him."

"He'd get indigestion," commented Linda, which evoked unexpected laughter from her younger brother and sister. Feeling a little better, they began to mull aimlessly over the latest clue Roarke had given them. "So," Linda said, "let's assume Pegasus was a real living animal, instead of just something out of the collective Greek imagination. What kind of characteristics did Pegasus have that could've been inherited by the Black Phantom?"

Melissa said, "Supposedly Pegasus had crescent-moon-shaped hooves. That'd be a really distinctive trait, wouldn't it?"

Linda and Graeme looked at each other, both trying to picture a horse with such hooves. "I can't see it," Graeme finally said.

"No, I can't either. I mean, I can picture hooves that look like that, but the way I imagine 'em, it'd be like half the hoof was carved out to leave the rest shaped like a crescent. And how could any horse run on hooves like that?" Linda said.

"Well, Pegasus did," Melissa pointed out. "And Greek mythology says Pegasus was swifter than any ordinary mortal horse. Doesn't sound to me like his hooves gave him any problem. Maybe you're picturin' it wrong and his hooves were normal-sized, just shaped like crescents instead of bein' round."

At about the same time, Hugh Markham broke the pensive silence that had hung over the trio since leaving the library. "What's a crescent look like?"

"Sort of a C-shape," Colin explained to him. "A bit like a boomerang."

Hugh processed this. "Y'mean like the Boomerang Moon?"

Dori and Colin exchanged reminiscent grins; ever since he could talk, Hugh had called the twice-monthly crescent moon by that name. None of the family had ever figured out where he'd come up with it. "Yeah, you could say that," Colin said amiably.

"Do you honestly think the Black Phantom had crescent-shaped hooves?" Dori asked. "I mean, I did see it in that one book, but I can't figure out how on earth any horse could even walk, let alone run, on hooves like that."

"I dunno," Colin grumbled, kicking up dust along the path.

"Makes no sense," Hugh said suddenly. "Know why? Horses leave tracks in the dirt. Never saw nothin' said the Phantom had funny-shaped tracks."

Colin and Dori stared at him in amazement. "The things he comes out with!" Dori marveled. "I think he's right. If the Phantom had crescent-shaped hooves, it'd have been all over the media articles of the day. And Hugh's right; nothing mentioned hooves that looked like that, or tracks that would have fit them."

"Then it has to be something else," Colin said, scowling at the starry sky. "But what?"

"I still say no horse could possibly run on crescent-shaped hooves," Graeme said, rolling his eyes again. "Damn, Liss, the crazy stuff you think up. What good are sissy hooves like that gonna do a racehorse? It had to be somethin' else."

"How can you be so sure?" Melissa demanded.

"Because the Black Phantom would've left tracks in the dirt," Linda said impatiently. "No horse has crescent-shaped hooves, and if he did, they'd have stood out in the dirt on any racetrack. What's more, someone would've brought it up at his very first race, and it would've been mentioned in the media every race afterward. I saw hell-knows-how-many old newspaper articles in all those library books we looked through, and not a single one of them mentioned hooves at all—let alone crescent-shaped ones."

Melissa sighed, realizing they were right. "I see your point. But come on, the only other distinguishing characteristic Pegasus had was those wings, and it's pretty obvious the Phantom didn't inherit those—even though there were acres of quotes about him lookin' like he was flyin' through every race." Graeme and Linda shrugged, neither of them able to come up with a rejoinder, and they fell silent, ruminating as they walked.

Then Melissa stopped short, within sight of their bungalow, and blurted, "Wait! I just thought of somethin'! What if he _did_ inherit wings?"

"He didn't, you idiotic little sheila," Graeme said, thoroughly exasperated. "Melissa Anne Carpenter, you must be the most fluff-headed female ever born."

Melissa whacked him in the shin with a substantial and very well-placed kick, making him howl and hop back several feet. "Why don't you go kiss a kangaroo, Graeme James Carpenter, you pig-headed horse's arse? He didn't inherit the wings themselves, I know that. But there could've been mutations over time. Who knows how long ago Pegasus lived, if he was real? Could've been long enough for mutations to take place. Maybe there'd be traces left of those wings, somehow. Like a place on each side of a horse where the wings would've been attached—a depression or dent, or an extra-large muscle to support the base of a wing. That'd explain a lot."

Graeme forgot the pain in his leg and stared at her; Linda blinked, mental wheels grinding furiously as she considered this idea. "Damn," Graeme finally said, as if reluctant to admit it, "that actually makes some sense."

"The only other thing that set Pegasus apart from any other horse is wings," Dori said. "Not that it could be possible, because you can tell from any photo that the original Black Phantom didn't have wings. But that's all we've got."

Colin thought it over. "Wings, wings… Pegasus' wings were attached to his sides, then, right? Closer to the front legs than the back ones? And up toward where the neck ended and the torso began." He stopped where he was and closed his eyes, calling forth a mental image of the mythical winged horse. "Those wings must've had a big, wide base on Pegasus' body, or they'd never have lifted him into the air. So they were about the biggest wings in existence, and they'd have needed a really substantial base on the torso. That means there'd have to be a major muscle there to support them."

Dori stared at him, eyes slowly widening as she grasped his meaning. "And that muscle would've been attached to leg muscles, right? Leg muscles that would've helped a horse run faster than any other horse…"

"So the Phantom had an extra muscle that helped him win races," Hugh broke in with a grin that nearly divided his face in two. "And I bet this Phantom has it too."

"We'd better get to the main house!" cried Dori, and as one the trio took to their heels.

"That extra-large muscle could have been the one that supposedly allowed the Black Phantom to beat every horse in every race, every time," Linda blurted excitedly. "Some kind of overlarge leg muscle that would have stored more energy for the Phantom to burn, so he could run faster or longer than all the other horses in a race."

"That has to be the answer," Graeme agreed, nodding. "I take it back, Liss, you're some kinda genius. And if we don't get to the main house with this right away, we're sunk! Let's get goin'!" They leaped off the porch of their bungalow and pelted up the path.

Roarke had just left for the monthly island council meeting, and Leslie was at the desk reading a letter from her former sister-in-law in Finland when the Markhams exploded into the foyer, almost throwing the door off its hinges. At the exact same moment, the Carpenters stampeded onto the terrace and came to a thundering halt just inside the open French shutter doors, having spied the Markhams who were frozen in the foyer, staring right back at them. Leslie looked up, glanced back and forth between the two groups and waited for someone to recover enough to speak.

When nothing happened, she eyed the ceiling and grinned fleetingly to herself, then said, "So what brings you folks over here in such a frenzy?"

That was enough to jolt all six Australians back to life at once, and they all began to talk simultaneously. Leslie stood up from Roarke's chair and held up her hands till they fell silent. "Calm down a little, please." She focused on Hugh Markham. "You tell me."

Hugh peered at her smiling face and suddenly smiled back, his eyes warming. "Y'see, Miss Leslie, we figured out what the Phantom inherited from that horse with the wings. We thought maybe boomerang-shaped hooves, but that ain't right—he'd leave tracks like that and people'd talk about it."

"It was a super-muscle," Linda Carpenter said insistently, unable to keep quiet.

Dori interrupted in her turn, afraid of being bested. "An extra one where Pegasus' wings would've been attached to his body—a big strong muscle that'd give him stamina."

"And extra speed to win races. Something that could've been passed down to his descendants," concluded Melissa.

"We finally figured it out on the way back to our bungalow," Colin said.

"We figured it out first," Graeme put in, shooting him a glare.

Leslie cleared her throat, which quieted them again. "Hm," she said when she knew she had their full attention. "Well, all of you are right: the Black Phantom did have an extra muscle—a very large one that gave him the extra strength and energy that put him ahead of any other horse he ever raced against. That's exactly the characteristic Mr. Roarke meant for you to find. Seems to me there's another tie."

"I told ya there'd be another tie," crowed Hugh, looking very pleased with himself.

Leslie laughed. "So you did," she agreed. "Well, your timing is exquisite, since Mr. Roarke just now left for a meeting. But that's all right. I'll bring him up to date when he gets back, and then tomorrow morning all of you should be here at the main house at ten. That's when Mr. Roarke'll tell you about the race and all the details you need to know." She surveyed them and frowned suddenly. "What happened to your brother Angus?"

Dori and Colin looked at each other. "I think he has other plans," Colin finally said, a little nervously. "He didn't want to work with us—said he was going to do something else towards helping us win ownership of the horse. Frankly, we didn't care for the implication of that, so we told him we didn't want any part of it, and he went his own way. Haven't seen him since then."

Leslie nodded slowly, aware of the surprised expressions on the Carpenters and the nervous looks on the Markhams. "Well, if he does anything illegal, there'll be repercussions. Mr. Roarke will know." She cleared her throat and took in the group as a whole. "Unless I miss my guess, none of you has eaten since lunch, and it's almost eight-thirty. Why don't you have a good, substantial meal at the hotel? By some stroke of luck, our hotel's chef has barramundi, and it's my understanding there may even be kangaroo steak."

Her guests stared at one another in astonishment. "I ain't ate kangaroo in years," Hugh said, his wondering gaze going to Leslie. "How'd you know that's my favorite treat, Miss Leslie?" His face broke into a huge smile, and she grinned back. "I'm for that. Come on, Dori and Colin, let's go!"

"I could eat barramundi all right," Graeme remarked.

"D'you think there'll be any Vegemite in the mornin', then?" Melissa asked hopefully.

Leslie shifted her grin from Hugh to Melissa. "I'm sure there will be. Why don't you ask when you go to breakfast? Enjoy your meal, everyone." They thanked her, and she watched them leave, smiling a little. Slowly she settled back into Roarke's chair and picked up the letter to finish reading.

Roarke came back shortly after nine and found her staring unseeingly out the open French shutters. "Leslie, are you all right?" he asked.

She came to with a start and blinked at him. "Oh, I didn't realize it was that late already," she said. "I was just thinking of something Mielikki said in her letter."

"I see," Roarke said, going to the front of the desk and dropping a car key into the gold box that sat there. He glanced at her; she was watching him, her eyes shining with sudden tears. "What's wrong?"

The gentle question prompted a tear to spill out of one eye. "She told me she's expecting a baby. It'll be their third." She looked away then, her gaze going right back to the starlit scene beyond the doors, her chin trembling just perceptibly.

And Roarke knew then. He circled the desk and drew her into a hug. "Tell me, Leslie. Don't keep it bottled inside you."

"Teppo and I wanted to have a baby," she said thickly, burrowing her head into his shoulder as if she were two decades younger than her nearly twenty-six years. "We wanted to, but somehow it never happened. We tried…my gosh, we tried everything in the book. We consulted a doctor, bought books, you name it…but nothing worked."

"Sometimes that happens," Roarke said softly. "It's frustrating at the very least, devastating at worst. Was any medical reason ever found for the problem?"

"No," she admitted. "And not for lack of trying to determine the answer either. We'd been discussing what we were going to do next when he was…" Leslie's voice gave out and she shook her head. "I guess it simply wasn't meant to be, but I still wish…"

"I know, my daughter," Roarke said, just above a whisper. "I know."

She let herself relax against him. He sounded as if he were speaking from experience, she thought, but didn't bother asking. She might be his daughter all right, but there were still many things she didn't know about him and felt it wasn't her business to ask him about. If he were ever so inclined, he might tell her someday; but when all was said and done, she realized it didn't really matter. He was there for her, the only family she had, and that was enough. Leslie smiled faintly and returned his hug in full.

After a few minutes Roarke patted her back and smiled at her when she lifted her head. "So, has anything else of note occurred this evening?"

"Ah yes," she remembered then. "I guess Stage Three of the Great Horse Quest will have to be put into motion." She joined in his chuckle at her terminology and explained what had happened with the Carpenters and Markhams. "I told them to be here at ten tomorrow morning so you can explain the race to them."

Roarke nodded. "You did a fine job, Leslie, very good. As to Angus Markham, it's his choice as to whether to participate in the race; but since you apparently feel that his siblings aren't sanguine about his disappearance, I will notify the island police to be alert for any sign of him. It's as much for his safety as that of everyone else."


	5. Chapter 5

§ § § -- April 7, 1991 

Three Carpenters and three Markhams appeared at the main house the next morning and stood in two distinct camps, shifting their weight nervously while waiting for Roarke to reappear from an emergency problem with the weekend's other fantasy. Leslie, dressed in equestrian garb, was there; she said "good morning" to them and suggested they sit down. They all declined, and she smiled acceptance and fell silent.

"We ain't seen Angus, Miss Leslie," Hugh suddenly volunteered to her, startling everyone. Leslie's head came abruptly up from the folder whose contents she was studying; she looked slightly taken off guard herself, but recovered so fast no one was quite sure she had been anything but composed.

"He never came back to the bungalow last night?" she asked.

Hugh, Colin and Dori shook their heads. "I think it means he's up to no good," Dori admitted. "We just thought you and Mr. Roarke should know in case something happens."

"We appreciate it," Leslie told her with a smile, and at that point Roarke entered the foyer and came into the room, surveying his guests as they all turned in unison to watch him come in. He smiled and nodded at them.

"Good morning, everyone," he said. "Since I can see you are more than ready for the details and conditions of the race, let us proceed without further ado. Leslie, if you would kindly remove the manila envelope I showed you yesterday from the appropriate desk drawer, I would be grateful." She set about doing so, while the Australians watched in curiosity and Roarke came around to join her behind the desk. When she had the envelope, Roarke turned to their guests and addressed them.

"The race," he said, "is to be held along two roughly parallel paths through the jungle. They begin just beyond the back of the terrace here—" he gestured to the scene outside the open French shutters— "and each path is marked with colored flags which you are to collect as you proceed down the trail. The trails end at the Fantasy Island stables, where you will find Leslie with the ownership papers and the Black Phantom."

"Is this Phantom really descended from the original, Mr. Roarke?" Linda asked.

Roarke smiled. "Why don't you all come outside, and we'll ascertain that right now." He led the way outside; Leslie was directly behind him, and their half-dozen guests were hard on her heels, Hugh just behind her and at her side as if having appointed himself her protector. Dori and Colin looked at each other and grinned wryly; their older brother seemed to have developed something of a crush on Roarke's daughter.

Once they had stepped down from the veranda, the Australians gasped in almost exact chorus. Standing placidly beside the fountain in front of the main house was a magnificent jet-black stallion, so carefully and lovingly groomed that his coat gleamed with polished blue highlights in the morning sunshine. "Ladies and gentlemen," Roarke said with a slight flourish, "I present to you the Black Phantom."

Their guests murmured and stared, awestruck. Roarke let them react for a moment or two before clearing his throat to get their attention and then turning to his daughter. "Leslie, the envelope." She handed it to him, and he reached inside and pulled out a sheet of translucent film. "The island veterinarian examined the horse yesterday morning," Roarke said, "and delivered this X-ray to me in the afternoon. As you can clearly see in the photo, there is indeed a very large muscle connected to the front legs—one on each side of the horse—that is rumored to have at one time supported wings, as on Pegasus. Mr. Carpenter, will you kindly pass it around." He handed Graeme the film and watched while each person in turn took it and lifted it to the bright sky to examine it. Hugh, the last to look at it, gave it back to Leslie with a bashful but very large grin; she smiled impartially back at him as she accepted it. Roarke watched this transaction with some interest and smiled faintly to him-self when Hugh turned away, face lit up like a beacon.

"So, as you can see, this horse is indeed the descendant of the legendary Black Phantom," Roarke continued. "Now that you have seen him and had a chance to examine the proof of his lineage, it's nearly time to begin the race." He gave Leslie the envelope, and she turned without a word and mounted the stallion, sitting him with the slightly uneasy air of the inexperienced rider. Leslie had ridden before, but not often; it had been necessary for her and the horse to get used to each other through the previous day. Roarke had given her a few basic pointers as well. Now she seated herself comfortably and made a show of sliding the envelope inside the jacket of her riding costume while Roarke spoke.

"Leslie will be waiting at the stables with the Phantom and the ownership papers," he said. "I have set up an appointment with the previous owner's lawyer and will be notifying him of the results once I hear from Leslie. Now, to the rules: as I said, there will be colored flags at regular intervals along each trail—red for the Markhams and green for the Carpenters. Collect the flags as you proceed along the path. The two trails are roughly parallel and about the same length, so that both families will have an equal opportunity to win. If anyone tries to cheat in any way, the entire party to whom that person belongs will be automatically disqualified. The first group to reach the stables will be declared the winner and will sign the papers as rightful owners of the Black Phantom. Are there any questions?"

"Yes…when do we start?" Graeme demanded.

"As soon as Leslie has a head start on her way to the stables." He turned to her. "Go on, Leslie, and let me know when you arrive. You have the walkie-talkie, don't you?"

"Right here, Mr. Roarke," she assured him, tapping a saddlebag.

"Good," he said. She took a breath, then patted the Phantom's neck and quietly urged him ahead. She steered him past the fountain and down the looping lane, veering off the beaten path and disappearing into the trees.

"How much of a lead are ya givin' her, Roarke?" Graeme asked, frowning after her.

"Ten minutes," Roarke told him frostily. Graeme eyed him, looking slightly surprised at his chilly tone, then shrugged and propped one foot on the edge of the fountain, leaning both elbows on his thigh and gazing across the duck pond.

"I have two questions, Mr. Roarke," Hugh said suddenly.

"Yes, Mr. Markham?" Roarke prompted.

Hugh shifted his weight. "What if we have a tie again?"

"Oh, Hugh, for cryin' out loud…Mr. Roarke explained that to you yesterday," Colin said with an impatient groan. Dori rolled her eyes; Graeme shook his head, and Linda and Melissa snickered.

Roarke only smiled. "As I mentioned previously, that eventuality has been addressed in the previous owner's will. But there is no need to go into it now. Your other question?"

Hugh blinked, then realized he was being spoken to. "Oh yeah. Mr. Roarke, we ain't seen Angus since last night. He never came back to our cottage. He was plenty angry when he left, and he said he was gonna do his plan alone since we didn't want no part of it." He toed his boot nervously in the dust while Roarke watched him patiently and the others eyed him, half curious, half wary. Finally he lifted his head and asked in the plaintive way of a small boy, "You ain't gonna let him hurt Miss Leslie, are ya, Mr. Roarke?"

Roarke's eyebrows shot up; again Linda and Melissa snickered, more loudly than the first time. Graeme turned an incredulous stare on the oblivious Hugh; Dori and Colin looked at each other and grinned reluctantly.

Finally Roarke said gently, "I appreciate your concern for my daughter, Mr. Markham. Do you have reason to believe your brother might cause trouble?"

"Maybe," Hugh said, shrugging. "All I know is, he was steamin'." He fell silent and turned away; Roarke absently checked his gold pocket watch, filing Hugh's words away for the moment.

At last the ten minutes had elapsed and Roarke led the two families through the house again and onto the terrace. Just beyond the natural fence created by tall flowering bushes, two clearly-marked trails meandered off into the jungle. "The Carpenters have the green-marked trail on the left, and the Markhams have the one on the right that is flagged in red. You may begin now, and good luck to you all."

Immediately the two families plunged off down their respective paths, and Roarke lingered long enough to see them disappear altogether before turning back toward the house. The lawyer lived at the opposite end of the island from here, and he would have a fairly lengthy round trip; so he paused only long enough to take a key from the gold box before exiting the house.

±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±

Leslie reined in at the stables and dismounted, removed the walkie-talkie from the saddlebag and clicked it on. "Mr. Roarke?"

A moment or two passed before the speaker squawked and she heard his voice. "Are you at the stables, Leslie?"

"Just got here," she said. "Where are you now?"

"On my way to the other side of the island to pick up Mr. Fairbanks' lawyer," Roarke told her. "If either the Carpenters or the Markhams arrive before we do, let them know we are on the way and will be there as soon as possible."

"Will do, Mr. Roarke," Leslie said. "See you then." She slid the device back into the saddlebag and dropped the reins, leaving the Phantom free to graze at will. Unaware of the pair of narrowed eyes that watched her from among the leaves of a nearby hedge, she made her way along the stable doors, greeting each of the few horses that poked their noses from their stalls in curiosity.

A groom stepped out of the stall at the very end. "Good morning, Miss Leslie!"

"Hi, Lono," she said to him. He was a lanky young native islander with a ready smile and a way with horses. "How's the Professor doing?"

"He's in good shape, Miss Leslie," Lono told her. "Still likes his tutti-frutti ice cream every afternoon, of course." They both laughed. "That's quite some horse you rode in here. Is that the Black Phantom we've been hearing so much about?"

"Sure is," Leslie said. "We're finally going to determine his ownership today, and he'll be on his way to Australia soon." They went on talking for a few minutes in low voices before Lono excused himself and departed the stables, leaving Leslie alone with the Black Phantom. She leaned quietly against the doorway of the end stall, gazing into space.


	6. Chapter 6

§ § § -- April 7, 1991 

"You'd think we'd've seen Angus by now," Dori said uneasily, following in Hugh's substantial wake as they waded through heavy overgrowth. The trail had degenerated into a barely-visible footpath that often got swallowed by the abundant vegetation, and Colin and Dori had let Hugh take the lead, since he simply plowed through everything in his path without hesitation. "If you ask me, he's up to something."

"Angus has been 'up to something' all weekend," Colin grumbled. "There's a flag, Hugh, grab it. Look, we did all we could. If we don't see him by tonight, we'll tell Mr. Roarke, and he can have the police out looking for him. And if Angus tries something, well… we'll know about it long before tonight, I know that much." He shook his head.

"I just don't want us losing to those Carpenters on a technicality," Dori said. "I don't want us losing at all, especially to that lout Graeme, but if we cheat, we automatically lose, all four of us—even if Angus was the only one who did it."

"Are you comin', for cryin' out loud?" Graeme demanded for the fourth time since hitting the trail, turning once again and glaring at Melissa. She had been lagging behind, leaving Linda and Graeme to collect the green flags, a pensive expression on her face. She shot him a sharp, exasperated glare.

"Just leave me alone, Graeme, damn you," she snapped. "I'm here, so let me be. You just collect the flags." He shook his head, turned and pushed forward. Melissa returned to her own thoughts and the idea that had been growing in her mind ever since late the previous night when she hadn't been able to sleep. She knew she had only so long now before she was locked into her situation; if she was going to do it, it was now or never.

She cast one last glance at Graeme and Linda ahead of her, then nodded firmly to her-self. _Showtime, Melissa Anne._ She let out a loud cry and sank to the ground when her brother and sister stopped to see what was wrong.

"What happened?" Linda demanded.

"My ankle," Melissa moaned, rubbing it and wincing. "I think I twisted it. I stepped on something funny and it slipped out from under my foot."

Graeme cursed loudly; the jungle around them rang with his voice. "Maybe if you'd been up front with us instead of dragging us down back here…"

Melissa lost her temper then, and she didn't have to fake it. "If I'm dragging you down so much, Graeme Carpenter, then why don't you and Linda just go on without me? I'm sure you wouldn't miss me for a second—all you can think about is that stupid horse. So how about you just leave me here and send help when you've won—if you can be bothered?" She glared at her surprised brother.

"We can't just leave her," Linda said.

"You'll lose the race," Melissa protested. "Just go. I can tell Graeme's dying to get on with this anyway." Graeme and Linda looked at each other, and she insisted, "Go!"

Graeme gave in first. "Well, just remember, you're the one who told us to go on," he reminded her and started away without further ado. Linda glanced back and forth between him and Melissa, her face a mask of uncertainty.

"Come on, Linda, go," Melissa urged her. "It's not cold out and it's not a big island. The stables can't be all that far away. I'll be fine till you can send help."

Linda sighed deeply. "I don't like it, but all right, Liss. Just stay there and don't move so we know where to find you when we bring back help." She turned and followed Graeme down the trail; Melissa waited till she could no longer hear even an echo of their voices before rising to her feet and weaving her way through densely-packed tree trunks, hoping she was going in the right direction.

Dori suddenly stopped and cocked her head, a wary, alert look on her face. "Do you hear something?" she asked.

Colin and Hugh stopped too. "Like what?" Colin asked. They listened for a moment to the thrashing sounds of vegetation being disturbed, and peered at one another worriedly.

"Does Mr. Roarke have big dangerous animals on his island?" Hugh asked, just before Melissa Carpenter stumbled out of the bushes and almost collided with Dori. They all backed off a step or two, gaping at her.

"What're you doing here?" Dori finally demanded.

Melissa raked her unruly curls out of her eyes and essayed a silly smile. "Denying my father and refusing my name?" she suggested hopefully.

"Huh?" said Hugh blankly.

Dori stared at her; Colin began to grin. "What're you sayin'—you're comin' over to our side or something?" he asked.

Melissa reddened sheepishly. "I guess you could call it that. Graeme's got a nasty attitude and a one-track mind, and Linda hasn't the strength to stand up to him, even though she's older than he is." She smiled at Colin, clearly returning the interest that sparked in his eyes. "If you win, you don't have to put my name on the papers, but I'd just feel better if I could be on your side. Graeme thinks I'm stupid and Linda pays almost no attention to me most of the time."

"Then they're both a coupla dolts," Colin declared. "How 'bout it, Dori? Hugh?"

Hugh shrugged amiably. "It ain't nothing to me," he said in an agreeable tone. "Let's go now." He promptly resumed clearing the trail.

Dori threw her hands into the air. "Well, Hugh doesn't care and I guess Colin would throw a tantrum if I protested, so what the hell. Welcome to the Markham family." She gave Melissa a crooked little grin, and Melissa grinned back. "Let's get going before Hugh loses us in this benighted jungle."

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The warm sun lulled Leslie into a half-dozing state, so she never heard a thing. In any case, her assailant had taken great care to sneak up on her. So when the hand clapped itself over her mouth and the barrel of a gun pressed against her temple, she was so stunned that she surrendered without a sound. "Get over here," hissed a voice in her ear.

_Angus Markham,_ she realized, terror promptly exploding in her gut. _Hugh tried to warn us about him—he knew Angus was up to no good._ She complied with Angus as he pushed her towards the placidly grazing horse, knowing full well that she was completely alone here. There was no one to come to her aid if she screamed; and besides, that could push Angus over the edge. She was certain he was crazy enough to kill her should she let out so much as a squeak; so she did as he ordered, swallowing rapidly in an attempt to keep from losing her breakfast from sheer fright.

Angus stopped her next to the Phantom. "Now get out your walkie-talkie and get Roarke on the other end, and you tell him that the Markhams won this race and you had me sign the ownership papers. Understand me? And you better make sure your voice is nice and steady when you talk to him." She actually shot him a look that clearly said _fat chance, buster!_ but consciously tried to settle her jumpy stomach, making slow and deliberate motions in the process of pulling out the walkie-talkie and breathing deeply in the hope of calming her voice. She wasn't at all convinced she could fool Roarke; but maybe she could fool Angus without also making Roarke think everything was all right.

Angus watched her closely as she cleared her throat and took one more deep breath. But her voice cracked slightly when she pressed the button and spoke Roarke's name into the little device, and she automatically braced herself for the gun to return to her temple.

However, Angus didn't move, apparently waiting for Roarke's reply. It took a moment; then his voice came through the speaker, accompanied by quite a bit of static. "Leslie, is that you?"

"Yes, it's me," she said, raising her voice. "The Markhams have won the race…and they had Angus with them, so he s-signed the papers." This time Angus noticed her nervous slip and did indeed press the gun against her head.

"I'm sorry, Leslie, I…" Roarke's voice dissolved in a crackle of static; she tried to raise him again, but it was clear he was too far out of range.

"Get him back!" Angus barked at her.

"I can't!" she cried. "He's too far away. I don't think he heard me any better than I could hear him. I can't do anything about it!"

Angus backed down, realizing she was right. "All right, all right." He raked a hand through his hair and glanced in several different directions before taking on a look of resolution. "In that case, we're goin' for a little ride—and if you try to warn anyone, I promise you this'll be the last day of your life. Get on the horse and take any jungle path that goes to the closest marina." She shot him a panicked look, and he lost whatever patience he had, seizing her arm and brutally jamming the gun barrel against her temple again. "I said do it!" he cracked at her. She let out a cry of pain and terror, but somehow she managed to get her-self aboard the Phantom. It wasn't easy, since the horse sensed Angus' desperate fury and Leslie's burgeoning fear and kept sidestepping away from them in a nervous little dance.

Once Leslie was in the saddle, Angus hoisted himself up behind her and returned the gun barrel to a spot on the back of her head. Grabbing one of the reins, he jabbed the Phantom in the side with one heel, and the horse loosed a protesting neigh and broke into a trot towards the jungle where the competing families were expected to emerge. Angus tugged on the reins with one hand and jammed the gun painfully against Leslie's head with the other, cursing the air blue all the while. He didn't quite realize he was butting her head with the gun barrel, so that inevitably she reached up, more from instinct than any conscious thought, and tried to push his hand away.

"You stupid sheila, keep your hands to yourself!" Angus railed at her and cocked the gun. The sound froze her completely and sent a tidal wave of pure fear washing across her, so that it drove out all other emotion and thought. She stared wide-eyed at nothing, her eyes seeming to glaze over. Having immobilized her, Angus shifted his attention back to turning the Phantom in the opposite direction so he could make his getaway.

Graeme and Linda Carpenter fortuitously chose that moment to pop out of the jungle, Graeme with a handful of green flags. What they saw made them stop short. Linda gasped and covered her mouth with one hand in horror; Graeme stared in disbelief and dawning rage.

"What the hell—?" Graeme blurted.

His words made Angus yank back on the reins, bringing the Phantom to an abrupt halt; then he whipped his arm out and shot at Graeme. Both he and Linda dove to the ground; the noise drove Leslie over the edge and she started to scream. The stallion panicked as well, prancing and trying to rear up enough to throw off the two humans on his back, but unable to do so due to their combined weight. Angus, cursing again, hauled back on the rein over and over.

The bushes parted and out stepped Hugh, Dori and Colin Markham with Melissa Carpenter. "Get down!" shrieked Linda. "He's got a gun!"

Angus dropped the rein and slammed a hand over Leslie's mouth. "Shut up, you crazy sheila!" he roared, still pointing the gun in the general direction of his siblings and the Carpenters. "Just shut up!" Leslie subsided, but continued whimpering as if she couldn't turn off her voice once it got going.

"Turn her loose, you madman!" Colin shouted at his brother. "She's not involved in any of this. Have you totally lost your mind?"

"Don't risk your life, Colin," Melissa cried, watching him advancing in the direction of Angus, Leslie and the horse. "Watch out."

"Just let him have the Phantom," Dori shouted at Colin. "As long as he lets Leslie go, he can have the damned horse. It's not worth her life or anyone else's."

"I've all the advantages," Angus taunted them, grinning maniacally. "I've the gun, I've the horse, and I've a very convenient hostage. If Roarke doesn't want to lose his precious daughter, he'll negotiate with me. He'll give me the horse to get her back." He put the gun to Leslie's head again and sneered at the others, who gaped helplessly.


	7. Chapter 7

§ § § -- April 7, 1991 

But nobody had reckoned on Hugh Markham, who up till now had been staring in horror and disbelief, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. In his mind, his older brother was more than willing to hurt the pretty lady who had been so nice to him, and that deeply offended his sense of fair play. His lack of mental agility had caused Angus to discount him, so that he never really saw Hugh coming till Hugh was too close to stop. When Hugh charged, he ran so fast that within three seconds he'd reached the horse and its cargo, and had cracked Angus so hard on the arm with the gun that the weapon fell out of Angus' suddenly numb hand. Angus screamed a disbelieving curse and stared at Hugh.

"You're hurting Miss Leslie," Hugh said, glaring at Angus and breathing heavily. "She and Mr. Roarke gave us a nice place to stay and the best food to eat, and did everything they could to help us out. You're supposed to say 'thank you', not try to hurt them!"

"You halfwit," shouted Angus, his rage reaching new levels, and abruptly backhanded his brother with all the force he could muster. Hugh staggered aside and collapsed to the ground, evoking cries from Dori, Linda and Melissa. Colin and Graeme rushed Angus then, both overcome with fury. All the while the Black Phantom pranced and cantered back and forth, reflecting everyone else's emotional distress. Only Leslie didn't react; she had been through enough trauma by now that her brain had more or less shut down and she was inert and unresponsive, staring glassily at some point past the stalls.

Angus lashed out with his foot and hand, managing to get in a couple of blows each on Graeme and Colin. Before they could recover enough from his desperate flailing to try to pull him off the horse, a new voice shouted, "Enough!" Everyone froze and all heads, save Leslie's, snapped around to face the same direction. Roarke had arrived at last and was standing beside the car, with two police cars behind him and a man in a three-piece business suit standing half in and half out of the passenger seat, looking astounded.

"Dismount from the horse immediately, Markham," Roarke commanded, his voice flinty. "If you have harmed my daughter in any way, you won't be leaving this island for quite some time to come."

Angus wavered for a long, extremely tense moment, staring at Roarke, assessing the reinforcements that had accompanied him, and taking in the hostile faces of the Carpenters and his own three siblings. Finally he cursed once again and slid off the horse; several police officers promptly converged on him and put him under restraint with little trouble.

"Thank God," said Dori Markham explosively. "If he'd hurt anybody, I could never have lived with myself. Poor Leslie, I think she'll be in shock for the rest of the day." She and the others picked themselves up from the ground, all of them shaky from adrenaline withdrawal, warily watching the policemen lead Angus away.

Roarke brushed past Angus and the cops, moving with swift purpose for the now-quiet horse and his traumatized passenger. Leslie was half drooped over the Phantom's neck, breathing quickly and shallowly, eyes enormous and unfocused. Their guests looked on with uneasy, worried faces as he reached up and took her hand. "Leslie, it's all right," he said quietly. "Look at me, child…you're safe now."

The sound of his voice punched through the foggy curtain her brain was trying to draw around her, and she blinked and focused on him, not sure if she should believe what she saw. "Mr. Roarke?" she whispered hopefully.

"Yes," he said, nodded and smiled at her in reassurance. "Why don't you come down from there now. It's all over."

She made a move to dismount, but in the end her legs wouldn't hold her up and she slid off the Phantom's back, nearly crumpling to the ground. Roarke and Hugh both caught her and supported her while she tried to regain some of her equilibrium. Dori smiled, her eyes inexplicably misting over, and Melissa's hand slipped into Colin's; they all watched, including Roarke, as Leslie turned to gaze at Hugh with wide eyes that still retained vestiges of shock. "Thank you, Hugh, you're a very nice man," she said softly.

Hugh's face brightened like a sunrise, and the others grinned at one another. He looked at Roarke then, cleared his throat and said earnestly, "I tried real hard not to let Angus hurt her, Mr. Roarke. I told him it wasn't right, after everything you and Miss Leslie did for us this weekend. I'm sorry if he did hurt her."

Roarke smiled. "I don't believe any real damage was done to her, Mr. Markham," he said. "Given some peace and quiet, Leslie will be just fine. We both thank you, most sincerely, for your efforts on Leslie's behalf."

A somewhat embarrassed silence fell then, while Roarke gathered a still-shaky Leslie into a loose embrace and the Australians glanced sheepishly at one another. Finally Graeme said, "Now that we know Leslie's all right…what about the Black Phantom?"

"Yes, we do need to resolve that question," Roarke agreed. He turned to the man standing beside the red station wagon and signaled at him to join their group. "This is Mr. Grady Harding, ladies and gentlemen; he is the executor of the will of the Black Phantom's late owner." He proceeded to introduce Harding to each of the Australians, who one by one shook hands with him.

Harding glanced around at the group and then studied Leslie, who stood silently in Roarke's arms, watching blank-faced. "I seem to remember you from seven or eight years ago, Miss Hamilton," he remarked out of the blue, "when you helped break up a false-plagiarism ring for the local publishing house. So we meet again."

Leslie blinked at him as if coming out of a trance, broke her gaze and thought back, then suddenly grinned. "I remember that case too. Nice to see you again, Mr. Harding." She glanced at Roarke, who bore an unmistakably relieved gleam in his dark eyes, and smiled. "I'll be okay, Mr. Roarke."

"Good," he murmured warmly, smiling; then he shifted his attention to the entire group. "The question is this: which group was the first to reach the stables?"

The inquiry brought on a startled silence, and everyone looked at one another in confusion. Shoulders were shrugged, mouths quirked into sheepish grins, and some faces turned red. Finally Graeme Carpenter admitted, "So much happened, Mr. Harding, I don't think I could tell you who got here first." The others mumbled concurrence.

Harding grinned. "I can understand that. Well…Miss Hamilton, you were here the entire time. Do you remember which group arrived first?"

Leslie's eyes widened, and Roarke, still holding her, studied her curiously. "I realize you were under a phenomenal amount of emotional stress, my child, but if you do recall anything, it would be very helpful."

Leslie considered the situation for about a full minute, replaying her memories of the last ten or fifteen minutes. She shivered once and closed her eyes, and Roarke gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. Finally she said, "The Carpenters were the first ones to get here, because when Mr. Carpenter saw what was going on, he reacted aloud, and Angus Markham shot at him then."

Graeme and Linda looked at each other, then at Melissa, who was very clearly in the Markham camp. She stood close to Colin, their hands clasped and fingers interlaced. "How 'bout you, Liss?" Linda asked.

"It's all right," Melissa said and glanced shyly at Colin. "You two won. I defected to the Markhams' side during the race, so I don't have any part in this."

Graeme assessed his sister's obvious interest in Colin and his in her, looked curiously at Dori, then eyed Hugh. Something in his features softened, and he suddenly chuckled. "Mr. Harding," he said, turning to the lawyer, "I realize Miss Leslie says Linda and I won the race…but considering everything that's been happening here, and Liss hooking up with Colin there, and Hugh so concerned over right and wrong and Miss Leslie's welfare, I think the only decent thing to do is to have all six of our names on those ownership papers. The Carpenters and Markhams will co-own the horse, just like our great-great-great grandfathers did in the nineteenth century."

Grady Harding smiled and nodded. "In that case, Miss Hamilton, I believe Mr. Roarke gave you the papers."

"Oh, yes, he did," she remembered and reached into her riding jacket, extracting the manila envelope and handing it to Harding.

"By the way," Harding said, his smile becoming a grin, "I should advise both families that you very neatly fulfilled the terms of the will, without even realizing it." While they all stared at him blankly, he removed a white envelope from an inside pocket of his blazer and withdrew from it a few folded sheets of paper. "This is the last will and testament of Liam Fairbanks, late owner of the Black Phantom and the last of the Fairbanks family. He was a distant relative of yours."

"What?" blurted everyone all at once.

"Mr. Fairbanks was the last descendant of a Carpenter son and a Markham daughter who eloped in 1868, against the wishes of their fathers who had already set up arranged marriages for them with other people. When they disappeared, they took the original Black Phantom with them. They left Australia with the horse and settled on a small uncharted island somewhere in the South Pacific, and no one ever heard from them again. Eventually the family moved on to other residences, till in the end Liam Fairbanks bought a cottage here on Fantasy Island and boarded the current Black Phantom at these stables for the last few years. He never married, and he knew the entire story of the rift that the elopement of his grandparents had driven between the Carpenter and Markham families. It was his hope that, by bringing the current generations of the two families together in competition for the Phantom, that rift would somehow be mended."

"And it worked," exclaimed Hugh. "Well, I mean, except for Angus."

Everyone laughed, and Harding nodded. "Mr. Fairbanks came up with the idea of the contest, from beginning to end, and asked Mr. Roarke to make sure it was carried out according to the terms he set out in this will." Harding tapped the papers he held. "The will provides that, should the rift be mended and the families become co-owners of the Phantom, there be an extra bequest." He turned then. "Mr. Roarke?"

With a last pat on Leslie's shoulder, Roarke let her loose, smiled with anticipation and suggested, "Please follow me, everyone." They all trailed after Roarke as though he were leading a parade, halting abruptly when he paused at the next-to-last stall and opened its door. Leslie, the only one who stood where she could see inside the stall, lit up in wonder; her expression caught the others' attention and they all leaned eagerly forward.

A moment later Roarke led a half-grown horse out into the sunshine. The filly had a shimmering coat of an astounding gray color that seemed almost iridescent. "She's gorgeous!" breathed Dori Markham in awe.

"Indeed she is," Roarke agreed. "This is Silver Spirit, and she is the newest generation of the line of the Black Phantom. Since the Carpenter and Markham families are now reunited in their ownership of the Phantom—precisely as Mr. Fairbanks had hoped—Silver Spirit is also bequeathed to both families as a bonus. So you will be transporting two magnificent horses home to Port Augusta with you."

Pandemonium broke out in the Australians' excited babbling, and Harding made the rounds, getting signatures from each happy member of the two families. Roarke and Leslie looked at each other and grinned at the same instant.

§ § § -- April 8, 1991

"We can't thank you enough," Linda Carpenter said, speaking for the entire group who had already shaken hands with Roarke and Leslie and tendered their farewells. "I think we're all actually relieved that the feud's finally over, especially since those two look pretty chummy all of a sudden!" She indicated Colin and Melissa, and laughed with her hosts.

"I'm just glad everything worked out the way it did," Leslie said. "Liam Fairbanks was quite a visionary, I think."

"I think so too," Linda agreed. "I wish we could have known him." She focused on Leslie curiously. "I hope you weren't permanently traumatized by what Angus did to you. I think it woke up Graeme. He'd always been stubborn about carrying on the feud, but when he saw what it did to Angus, he started thinking things over."

"She has suffered no ill effects," Roarke assured Linda. "I believe that just knowing she was able to help restore the friendship of your two families did her good. Angus Markham did no real damage, although I did take the liberty of sending him home on a plane that left yesterday afternoon. The Black Phantom and Silver Spirit are also already on their way to their new home."

"Wonderful. Thank you so much for everything you've done for us, Mr. Roarke and Leslie," Linda said, and shook hands with them before turning towards the boarding dock. They returned her last wave and watched quietly while the attendant slammed the door and the plane revved up to taxi out of the lagoon.

"No ill effects, that is," Leslie then said wryly, "outside of a colossal nightmare last night. I appreciate your leaving that out of your farewell to Linda Carpenter."

Roarke laughed. "I appreciate your gratitude, but there are other fantasies waiting; so I suggest we get down to business."

"I'd be more than happy to," she said and smiled. "Lead the way, boss." Roarke cast her a surprised glance, and her smile became an impish grin.

* * *

_The mention of "the Professor" in chapter 5 is taken from the episode "Also-Rans/Portrait of Solange" (first story arc), which first aired February 20, 1981 and starred Larry Linville, Joan Prather, Macdonald Carey, Arlene Dahl and a horse named Professor Oats._


End file.
